The Next Four Years Should Be Interesting…

Sorry for the brief hiatus from updating this blog.

My Mac got a virus.

Yes, Macs can get viruses.

I thought I lost the entire 180 pages I had written.

Luckily, I searched my Gmail and found what I think was the last draft of the book.

Get ready for more of the bad old days.

I better get this thing published before Donald Trump gets in office or the moon collides with a half-dead earth.

Whichever comes first.

Till then, enjoy this white lady racist remix.

Now that I cannot play guitar…

I have too much time on my hands.

JQ

If You Don’t Have Anything Good to Say: Don’t Say It?

The Descent Continues

Let me see…last three years have been a downward spiral. I lost my house, car, got run over by a truck, lost ability to play guitar (probably the biggest blow), insurance, my bike, got my identity stolen, can't go to the gym anymore because of this stupid Ulnar nerve injury, I had to go to court 5 times to beat a completely frivolous civil complaint (even though I won, I lost after lawyer fees, don't really have a place to live, I can't feel half of my right hand — I'm sure there's more suffering lost in the haze. People always want to blame drugs or alcohol. All my “friends” have left me for dead.

I was expecting that.

The fact is, you don't see me. I'm a recluse. I don't like people. You don't know what the fuck I do. I've been the soberest I've ever been in my life: IT SUCKS!

As far as the rest goes: I don't steal, I'm a man of my word, I have a good work ethic, I help people when I can…

I can tell you what day all of the started and spiraled downward: October 8th, 2013:

Fuck all you greedy bastards.

No matter what I try to do life just sucks more and more. Suicide doesn't even interest me. I'm a sadomasochist I want to see how much I can suffer.

I'm sure there are some schadenfreude human-trafficking motherfuckers out there reading this with the enjoyment.

It not like I want my life to suck, no matter what I do life just keeps smacking me down.

People say “it's all up from here”, but is it?

Really?

The was no point to this article.

Just venting.

#FML

Life In A Mexican Ghetto: Going Back To Cali

I'm going back to Cali, Cali, Cali
I'm going back to Cali – no man I don't think so

– LL Cool J

the real cerberus from your pretty face is going to hell photo

Sorry, I haven't updated this blog in a while, but life has been more tumultuous than normal. I've promised many times that this blog would be a re-accounting of my past, and someday I'll get to that, but when your current life is more fucked up than the shit-show of the past 44 years: That's a bold statement!

Let's do a quick recap because I'm quite sure there's a lot I left out. While I was waiting for the short-sale on my house through Keller Williams. The house had been in short sale negotiations for a while but hadn't reached escrow (or so I was told). I figured I would have at least 60 days to figure out what I was going to do once it went into escrow.

On August 29, Kellar Williams called me and asked if I could be out by the 15th. I asked what happened to telling me about escrow? He made up some bullshit story, and I reminded him that wasn't giving me a hell a lot of time to figure out what I was going to do with my life. He said he would try to buy me some more time and then called me back a few minutes later and asked if I could be out by the 16th.

I've told him, “Jesus fucking Christ, what's the difference?”

So I had to make a plan and make it fast. I figured I would go back to Atlanta where I am more respected as a musician and get back into playing music, maybe even get Dick Delicious back together, and keep on doing the Internet marketing thing. Since I had stayed there many times in the past and for the next three years would not have enough credit to get an apartment I hastily called the Highland Inn in Atlanta to see if they have any rooms open. It's one of those extended stay hotels, it's in a pretty decent neighborhood, and they have free Wi-Fi.

I sold off most of my belongings except for some guitars, amps, computers and clothes. I had about $13,000. I figured I could live on that for a while. So come the 15th, I loaded up a U-Haul behind my 2002 Expedition and started the cross-country trek from Los Angeles to Atlanta which didn't go as smoothly as planned. The day I arrived in Atlanta I noticed I didn't have any feeling in two of my fingers on my left hand. It wound up I had a compressed ulnar nerve and would need surgery. To this day, this is the worst event of my entire life. I can no longer play guitar, and despite the surgery, the symptoms have not improved as of the writing of this blog.

Also, on the first day in Atlanta they have a big Black Lives Matter protest that blocked off the highway. Here is a picture I shot from my Bicycle off one of the bridges that wound up all over Twitter.

Atlanta black lives matter protesters block highway

It was okay back in Atlanta. That is where all my real friends are anyways, of course, in the past 15 years everyone's gotten older and mellowed out quite a bit, and that really didn't bother me. I concentrated on getting my Internet marketing career going again.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at correcting my nerve damage with the chiropractor, I finally went into surgery, and they told me I might feel normal and 18 months to two years, But they couldn't even promise that.

jaso quinlan ulrar nevrve surgery

Two days after leaving the hospital, I went to brush my teeth one morning and was trying to spit up a giant lugee. I couldn't understand why I couldn't spit it up, so after clearing my mouth of toothpaste, I noticed my tonsils were the size of golf balls. I immediately went to a nearby walk-in clinic, and they told me I had tonsillitis which I probably picked up in the hospital. If the swelling didn't go down, I would require another surgery. They gave me some steroids and antibiotics and fortunately they worked, and the swelling subsided, thus dodging going under the knife again.

Sometime over the next few days, I logged into my bank account and saw that it was at negative $888,888.00. My first thoughts were that the IRS had gotten me. I knew I owed them some money, but by doing the math there's no way it could've been not much, so I began the four-hour process of trying to contact Bank of America.

It wound up, in my haste to move, I left a checkbook because someone got a hold of it and started writing bad checks until they had completely drained my bank account. I was able to log into my online banking and find all the bad checks. After a week or so it was resolved, and the money was put back in my account.

Of course, I couldn't stay holed-up my room hacking away on my computer I had to get out and socialize occasionally. From time to time I would visit my favorite local bar the Highlander, but only once a week or so. After my operation and up to now I have not been able to go to the gym or ride a bike as it puts even more undue stress on my damaged nerve.


One day, my friend Juan hit me up and asked me if I wanted to go out and get a few drinks. We got drunk but not THAT DRUNK He was right around the corner, so I went and met him at the bar. We hit the Virginia Highlands and then I returned to the Highland Inn.

The Highland Inn his old school. They have these metal keys for your door. For the last week the metal had fatigued on my key and almost broke off a few times. I should've had it replaced, but I didn't want to be a pain in the balls. That night after returning from the bar I put my key in the door, and the metal on the key started to break. I managed to wiggle the key out of the door before it broke off completely and went down to the front desk to get a new key.

When I reached the front desk there was no one there, but I could hear some guy playing guitar and singing Bob Dylan songs in the back room, and I tried to yell to get his attention for a good 10 minutes to no avail. So I got aggravated and figured I would give it one more try.

I went back to my room and wiggled with the half broken key for a good 10 minutes fighting with the lock and couldn't get it to budge. Finally, out of exhaustion, I just sat down next to my door and said I would try it again or go back to the desk in a few minutes. I sat down, and I fell asleep in front of my door.

Eventually, somebody came by and let me in, and I finally got some sleep. When I woke up the next morning, a note had been slipped under my door saying that I must check out immediately. Of course, I didn't have a Plan B. So I called my friend Shane Morton, and he let me crash at his house for a few days.

It became apparent to me between the nerve damage, tonsillitis, bouncing checks, and forced evictions that Atlanta doesn't want me back. So I decided to move back to California. I have a friend who was kind enough to offer a place to stay if I moved back. She is the bartender at The Rainbow (my favorite bar in LA).

After staying at Shane's for a few nights, I caught a flight back to California. This time, I wouldn't be living in some 2.2M home, I am staying smack dab in the middle of a Mexican Ghetto in West Hollyhood. To be honest, it's no big deal (or at least not yet).

One thing I have learned about life: Material things is not that important. Because as soon as you start owning a lot of stuff, your stuff owns you.

Where do I go from here?

I haven't a clue.

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

jason quinlan paypal

Morgan Mcnerney: Transexual Pornographer Newport Beach

Morgan Mcnerney Is a Tranny Pornographer Residing In Newport Beach, CA

Amended 2/2/2016: At Mogan's urging, I had originally decided to take this post down, but I've been thinking about it and weather he made the comment or not: Where was your mercy and compassion October 8th, 2013? You could have broke the vote that ultimately ruined my life, but you didn't: SO FUCK YOU! Even more ironic, being fired from a company for having a “drug  problem” BY people with drug problems!

In case you haven't noticed, I've been going through a severe bout of depression. I recently lost all sensation in my left arm driving across the country after losing my house which I worked my ass off for. This is what one of my dickhead business partners Morgan Mcnerney, of Newport Beach had to say on the matter:

Screen Shot 2016-09-07 at 7.48.54 PMI was shocked at the insensitivity this bastard had, considering I haven't spoken a word to him in almost four years, so I fired back, and there was a small verbal melee, you can read it if you want it's nothing that great. I admit to a couple of misspellings because I have to rely on Dragon Dictate these days to type.

The real purpose of this post is I want the people of Newport Beach to know the transsexual pornographer that lives in their midst. This is a picture of Morgan Mcnerney I found publicly available on his Google+.


A picture of Morgan Mcnerney Morgan Mcnerney Newport Beach-pornographer-chronic-Weed-and-pill-addict
A real piece of shit? Right?

Let me make this clear; I am not threatening Morgan with any physical harm. However, I rely on Facebook advertising to earn a living, and he got my account banned for 30 days for posting a picture of his ugly mug. I figured if he had the balls to make a comment like that, the least I can do is return the favor and post a picture of the face of the guy who had the fortitude to be so insensitive.

I figured there isn't anything I can do to him, so I may as well make his life hell on Google so he can't even get a job at McDonald's. This idiot has the gall to call himself a "graphic designer" but his chronic pot smoking impaired in from even trying to learn CSS in till it least 2010 even though cascading style sheets had become the web standard going back as far as 1997.

And just for your information, Morgan Mcnerney is a peddler of straight, gay and transsexual pornographic material and is responsible for the creation of the websites and the content contained therein. Morgan tries to keep a low-key profile blending in with the other rich snobs in Newport Beach. When, in fact, if the neighborhood Association knew what he did for a living, they would have him run out of the exclusive country club community in seconds flat.

This is the corporation he is currently a member of that produces transsexual and "straight" hardcore pornography and puts it up on "tube sites" even though Morgan has a young child shouldn't be exposed to.

Source:
http://nvsos.gov/sosentitysearch/CorpDetails.aspx?lx8nvq=%252fq08HwOTopg7i7TBm2vyvw%253d%253d

 Business Entity Information
Status:  Active File Date:  9/9/2009
Type:  Domestic Limited-Liability Company Entity Number:  E0484132009-2
Qualifying State:  NV List of Officers Due:  9/30/2016
Managed By:  Managers Expiration Date:
NV Business ID:  NV20091103677 Business License Exp:  9/30/2016

 

 Additional Information
Central Index Key:

 

 Registered Agent Information
Name:  LARRY L. BERTSCH, CPA & ASSOCIATES, LLP Address 1:  265 E WARM SPRINGS RD STE 104
Address 2: City:  LAS VEGAS
State:  NV Zip Code:  89119
Phone: Fax:
Mailing Address 1:  7582 LAS VEGAS BLVD SO #449 Mailing Address 2:
Mailing City:  LAS VEGAS Mailing State:  NV
Mailing Zip Code:  89123
Agent Type:  Commercial Registered Agent - Limited-Liability Partnership
Jurisdiction:  NEVADA Status:  Active
View all business entities under this registered agent

 

 Financial Information
No Par Share Count:  0 Capital Amount:  $ 0
No stock records found for this company

 

 Officers  Include Inactive Officers
 Manager - 9090-7247 QUEBEC INC DBA KB PRODUCTIONS INC
Address 1:  70 BIRCHVIEW Address 2:
City:  DOLLARD DES ORMEAUX QC State:
Zip Code:  H9A 2Y4 Country:  CAN
Status:  Active Email:
 Manager - JOHN BAUMGARTNER
Address 1:  360 E DESERT INN RD UNIT 804 Address 2:
City:  LAS VEGAS State:  NV
Zip Code:  89109 Country:  USA
Status:  Active Email:
 Manager - MORGAN MCNERNEY
Address 1:  339 PEACH TREE LANE Address 2:
City:  NEWPORT BEACH State:  CA
Zip Code:  92660 Country:  USA
Status:  Active  Hey

More proof:
http://www.salon.com/2001/07/03/webmaster/

Causes Morgan cares about these are the things that Morgan claims to care about on his LinkedIn page which all are a bunch of bullshit just so the child protective services don't call me and take his child. The only thing that Morgan cares about his marijuana, Pornography, fast cars, alcohol, and it has been arrested two times in of Orange County.

  • Animal Welfare - yeah right
  • Arts and Culture - doesn't know how to use a crayon
  • Children - un-fit father
  • Education - high school dropout
  • Environment - as long as there's slogan his lungs
  • Health - see above
  • Human Rights -as long as it involves growing marijuana in his backyard
  • Politics - now that's a laugh
  • Science and Technology - Morgan has barely made enough technical progress to make it out of the Stone Age

Thursday 8/18/2016: The Worst Day of My Life!

They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues – Steely Dan

Jason Quinlan on guitar in Los AngelesThursday Was The Worst Day of My Life By A Long-Shot!

I've been through a lot of hard shit lately, but this week, by far, has been the most difficult pill to swallow: I am officially done as a guitar player, which has been my life lifelong ambition and one real passion.

photo of ulner nerve surgery
After losing my house in California, I was forced to drive across the country with the few things that I wanted to keep: My guitars, amps, computers and other musical equipment.

One of my big reasons for coming to Atlanta was because, even though I was in bands in LA, I always just joined just to keep up my chops, not because I was particularly into what they were doing musically. I always had to be playing. Even if I wasn't jamming in a band, I would pick up the guitar for at least a half hour a day to practice. Despite all the craziness and my detour into porn, I have always considered myself (above all things) a guitar player. I think if you Google my name it even suggests it. I figured I could move to Atlanta, join a few bands, and slowly start piecing my life back together.

Jason Quinlan practicing guitar in Los Angeles

Of course, I would never have that kind of luck. My drive from Los Angeles to Atlanta was loaded with detours and road construction. I should've known I had bad luck in the mail when on the second day I went to adjust the driver's side mirror, and it just fell into the highway and smashed. The 35-hour drive turned into a 45-hour drive.

By the time I was on my third day, I was still west of the Mississippi. I decided that no matter how long I had to drive, I was going to reach Atlanta. I drove from 10 AM that morning until 1 AM the next day without stopping once, except to refuel and grab a coffee and gummy bears.

By the time I reached Atlanta, I was exhausted, but glad I finally made it. I immediately crashed out for a few hours and then when I woke up, I took my beloved ESP Guitar (which belonged to Jeff Hanneman) and tried to play a few notes. My ring finger was half numb, and I couldn't feel my pinky at all. I had lost all dexterity in both fingers and didn't even have the strength to push the strings down with my left hand.

I'm left-hand dominant; I just play guitar right-handed for some reason.

At first, I blew it off, thinking it was just my body tired from the drive, but after a few days, it didn't get better. I decided to go to a chiropractor, after a few adjustments, he told me if I hadn't seen any improvement at all I should see an orthopedist.

I had already been doing some googling, and I had correctly diagnosed myself with a “compressed Ulnar nerve“.

In the meantime, some asshole found one of my old checkbooks I left at my house in California and thoroughly emptied my bank account to $0 (-$500 actually). I am still trying to straighten that out with the bank.

This past Thursday I went into the Emory Spine and Orthopedic Center to get checked out.

You know you were in trouble when you go to the doctor, and the first thing he says is, “Oh shit!”

Apparently, I have some of “the worst Ulnar nerve damage” he's ever seen. Oddly enough, it was the driver's side door from Los Angeles to Atlanta that did me in. Too many hours of it bumping around on the door compressed something in my elbow and impinged the nerve.


I'm going in for surgery on Tuesday, but it's a “Hail Mary”, best case scenario 18 months to 2 years recovery time, but I'm likely never to recover because the nerve is already dead and the muscle in my hand has already begun to atrophy. I know, the same thing happened to Dave Mustaine, that was in 2002 when he could heal quicker as well.

Of a lot of hard days I've had lately, Thursday was by far the worst.

In case any of you motherfuckers thought I was a slouch on guitar: I could play even the best under the table. I was going to put together a compilation of guitar solos, but it is emotionally too much for me to handle right now. Here's just a taste, follow the link to the video for more:


Discography:

Personal Soundcloud: – https://soundcloud.com/jason-quinlan (a little bit of everything with a lot of unreleased home recordings)

Dick Delicious and Tasty Testicleshttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2O-sDvLN_o&list=PL72xSCDRz8gKY5DPYV-I9_eKqeEcgu8Sn(perhaps the band I'm best known for)

The Despised: https://www.facebook.com/despisedatlanta/ – A Punk band featuring Atlanta comedy kingpin Rodney Leete. I wrote all the hit songs but got none of the credit. Now my music career is over, they say comedy comes from a place of pain, I have plenty of that.

Bath Salts Cannibals: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLflmlm4r2SuRkvL4_Wx93vcEr0LgXxrj2 – Thrash project that was struck down before it had a chance to bud because the other guitarist developed cubital tunnel syndrome (ironically).

The Spo-It's: https://www.reverbnation.com/thespoits – This band has been kicked out of more clubs in the Southeast than GG Allin.

Operation and Asparagus: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLflmlm4r2SuTXjM_GxrcvDwUi9j1eoOrU – These are all home recordings with me playing every instrument. No particular genre but there're a few hits, perhaps best known for “Ballad of Mr. Marcus” and “Real Men Get Drunk On Tuesday.”

Kreephttp://www.kreeponline.com/ – Los Angeles Project with singer Brett from the band Bile.

Rumble Pig Version 1 & Version 2 – only audio/video record avaialable here.

COV – spare your ears, Lamb of God wannabes.

So that's my musical “career” in a nutshell. Maybe I'll try comedy for a minute, if not, I'm going out like my man HST.

It's not like I make money writing this. Donations are always appreciated! 🙂

jason quinlan paypal

‪JQ

Don’t Tell Me I Can’t End My Life!

“I would feel real trapped in this life if I didn't know I could commit suicide at any time.” ― Hunter S. Thompson

Check fraud Jason Quinlan
Just when you think life can't kick you in the teeth any worse, it does.

Quick recap…

1. I was completely screwed over by my piece of shit partners. That was three years ago and the beginning of my descent.

2. 2015 happened.

3. I lost my dream house, and now I'm living homeless after moving back to Atlanta.

4. The day I returned I couldn't feel any sensation in my left fingers; they were weak, and I have lost all motor skills. It winds up I came down with “cubital tunnel syndrome“, most likely caused by having my arm resting on the driver's side door on the three day trip across the country. Despite what all the trolls and the haters are saying in the comments of the blog my three favorite things to do in life is going to the gym, mountain biking and playing guitar. I haven't been able to do any of this stuff in two months, and it's likely I never will again.

5. Today I found out that I have been the victim of check fraud (see above) and what little money I had left is completely gone.

In the meantime, Charlie Sheen, who is easily 1000 times more evil of a person than I ever thought of being is slowly becoming a hero and an AIDS activist and that makes me vomit.

I still have so many more stories to tell of my “glory days,” Some of them are funny, and I probably should stick around long enough to re-account them, but at this point, I don't even feel like I'm living for pretending like there were any “good old days.”

I'm just existing.

I can exist anywhere. Right now I would prefer to be 6 feet below the ground.

If there is anyone out there, please remove the albatross from my neck or just let me die. I am beyond taking it anymore.

As a caveat, I have a bunch of stupid motherfucking trolls that ride my nuts in the comments of this blog. I am sure they will try to blame this on drugs or alcohol. The fact is, I've been basically sober for over a year now (for the most part). I suppose you are going to blame the cubital tunnel syndrome and the check fraud on the drugs?

Before you start doing that, I've made up a nice batch of blue Kool-Aid for you.

Drink it.

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

jason quinlan paypal

JQ

I Got My DEATH Threat from Dwight Cunningham (aka “Dave From The Luxury Companion”)

A death threat is a threat, often made anonymously, by one person or a group of people to kill another person or groups of people. These threats are often designed to intimidate victims to manipulate their behavior, and thus a death threat can be a form of coercion. – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_threat

dark picture of Jason Quinlan

I'm so excited! I got my first death threat from this blog today, I was going to leave names out of would fuck it – I Got My DEATH Threat from Dwight Cunningham (aka “Dave From The Luxury Companion”)! I don't fabricate stories to try to get attention and unlike Mike South, I don't take down posts and deny they existed. I dish out bowls of 100% #truthsoup! I do have every reason to take this threat seriously, but to be quite honest: If you kill me, it takes the pressure off me to do something I haven't had the courage to do myself. I think about suicide every day anways. If I kill you trying to defend myself, that is a win-win. It has always been a fantasy of mine to take someone else's life.

I'm not going to say who was the one who made the death threat but I should've kept them on speaker phone longer instead of hanging up so I could capture some of his sadistic rant. I will entrust someone with the name of that person, so if I'm killed, they are likely to spend the rest of their miserable life getting ass-raped in prison.

Oh yeah, when you want to start making a death threats, it's probably a good idea to block your caller ID. I'm sure was done from a burner phone but the number is (213) 379-0075. Check on Spokeo if you want:

<br/ ><br/ ><br/ ><br/ >So if you want to have do some fun, bring it. I'm not hiding where I am or my phone number.

If you want to try to guess who it is, just leave their name in the comments.

I haven't lied to you yet, and I won't start now.

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

jason quinlan paypal

JQ

Trapped In Purgatory 1.5

I busted a mirror and got seven years bad luck, but my lawyer thinks he can get me five – Steven Wright – Source: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/bad_luck.html
cropped-Screen-Shot-2015-11-14-at-4.26.36-PM.png

I'm not even sure why I bothered to post this morning. I just got back from the doctor and the prognosis was exactly as I expected. Testing has confirmed I have a compressed ulnar nerve.

To add insult, to injury: over the next 90 days I need to rest my elbows much is possible. Meaning, no going to the gym, mountain biking, or playing guitar. Excluding the obvious, those are three of my three favorite activities. I need to keep a pillow under my elbow just to use the computer.

Fortunately, I rough up the suspect with the right hand!

I have to start physical therapy next week and after three months if this feeling hasn't returned, the next step is surgery (which even the doctor admits “they don't get it right 100% of the time”).

To add insult, to insult, to insult to more injury: I let my insurance lapse on July 1st.

So what am I going to do?

While it might not be the most financially prudent decision I am going to use this downtime to do what I've been threatening to do for three years now. Don't get excited haters: I'm not going to kill myself!

I am going to finish writing Don't Tell Me How to Ruin My Life, and I'm not holding anything back. If you think some of my posts have been brutal before, just wait.

The only thing I won't do is embellish or lies. You'll get 100% on adulterated bowls of #truthsoup

It's not like I make money writing this. Donations are always appreciated! Much thanks to the people have helped me keep writing! 🙂

jason quinlan paypal

JQ

Trapped In Purgatory (With A Pinched Nerve)

Trapped in purgatory, A lifeless object alive, Awaiting reprisal and Death their acquiescence – http://www.songlyrics.com/slayer/reign-in-blood-lyrics/

jason-quinlan-guitarist
Purgatory and Pinched Nerves

Perhaps, I haven't been clear enough in all the Charlie Sheen Nonsense, exposing prostitution rings, exposing shady accounting, Jerry Springer, the police in south Georgia that my number one vocation in life is playing guitar. I am not trying to toot my own horn, but I'm damn good at it.

Even when I wasn't practicing with a band, I would pick up the guitar for 30 minutes to an hour a day, if to do nothing else than practice scales and keep my chops up.

One of my main reasons for moving back to Atlanta is because I am a relatively well-respected guitar player here. I've been here for five weeks, and I figured I would be in six bands by now.

Here is the caveat, upon arriving in Atlanta, I realized I couldn't play guitar at all. I developed a strange weakness and numbness in my right hand that made it impossible for me to play. I can barely move my pinky and ring finger. The best way to describe it is when a string vibrated beneath my finger it creates a sensation I can only describe as rubbing your fingers on a chalkboard.

Here is an approximation of the route I took from Los Angeles to Atlanta., because of the numerous detours what I thought would be a 35 to 40-hour drive wound up taking around 50 hours. Having my elbow resting on that god damned door was almost definitely the culprit.

MAP
I was driving alone. I figured if it was a 35-hour trip I could split it into three days driving 12 hours a day with no problem.

However…

1. I was planning to leave LA on the morning of June 15 just after traffic. As the day went on, delay after delay kept me from  getting on the road until after 7 PM. I drew for as long as I could and reach New Mexico.

2. The next day I was hoping to make up time but is soon as I started driving the mirror of my truck fell off, there were road word detours everywhere, and the battery mysteriously started having problems even though it was brand-new. Because these of delays I only made as far as Oklahoma

3. The third day, I said “Fuck it, I don't care how long I have to drive, I am going to make it the rest of the way to Atlanta starting around 9 AM. So I totally white-knuckled the drive from Oklahoma to reach Birmingham and Atlanta's morning rush hour and got to ATL after 25 hours of driving straight stopping only for gas and gummy bears.

While I'm far from a physician, I have a pretty good idea what happened. Having my elbow in that position for that many days and that many hours entraped my Ulnar nerve. I don't want to be a hypochondriac and expect the worst, but at this point, I've become accustomed the worst happening.

Nerves extend from your brain and spinal cord, sending important messages throughout your body. If you have a pinched nerve (nerve compression), your body may send you warning signals such as pain. Don't ignore these warning signals.

Damage from a pinched nerve may be minor or severe. It may cause temporary or long-lasting problems. The earlier you get a diagnosis and treatment for nerve compression, the more quickly you'll find relief.

In some cases, you can't reverse the damage from a pinched nerve. But treatment usually relieves pain and other symptoms.

Source: http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/pinched-nerve-in-or-near-the-elbow-topic-overview

To make matters worse, just before leaving California I let my healthcare insurance lapse, meaning if I needed some operation I wouldn't have the cash to do it. I've seen a chiropractor a few times but it made no difference.

So, I have been existing and purgatory here in Atlanta. I've been putting ice on my arm; I haven't been doing anything that would cause more elbow inflammation such as riding my bike are going to the gym, hell, I've even lost my interesting going out and trying to make money and attain marketing clients.

On the bright side, I'm working to use this time in purgatory to finish what I've been trying to do for three years: finish writing Don't Tell Me How To Ruin My Life.

If so many things hadn't happened I would be done by now, but a lot of the chapters of this blog we're never in the original manuscript.

Once I get done with that, I might just decide to go out like my literary Hero Hunter S Thompson. At 44 years old it wasn't like I was expecting to be a rockstar or anything. Playing guitar is just something I loved above all other things.

PS: this isn't a call to start a bunch of GoFindMe crap. One way or another, I will figure it out or I won't.

PSS: Thank you to everyone who is been supportive and has tried to make this easier on me. 🙂

I am leaving this link to my PayPal as I do with every blog. I am not seeking sympathy, If you want to support or enjoy my writing my Amazon affiliate links have generated a grand total of about $3. 🙁 That being said, donations are always appreciated.

jason quinlan paypal

JQ

At Least I’m Not Mike South

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not seek revenge? – William Shakespeare

lemmy xxxjay
In my last post, I initially made the mistake of linking to a blog written by Mike South.

Who is Mike South you might ask?

Don't worry about It; he's a nobody.

When I have the sporadic thought of suicide, I just remind myself that I could have been born Mike South, and I go on to live another day.

The post was regarding “Dave” from the Luxury Companion. Guess who I got a call from last night?

Dave from TLC.


Dave was very cordial, and we cleared the air about past misunderstandings. There was no discussion of his “legal troubles” (which have been widely misreported by Mr. South) and we mostly bonding discussion over our mutual hatred of Sandra McCarthy and the rest of The Gay Mafia currently controlling the mortally wounded porn business.

As usual, Mike South's post was written on uncorroborated information. I would link you over to his blog, but I don't want your IQ to drop. Last night, I buried the hatchet with Dave, and we both realized we would've made better friends than “enemies”, had the cards played out differently.

It doesn't matter to me if he was or wasn't pimping out girls behind my back that isn't his problem.

According to Mike South, that's his vocation.

My problem is unknowingly being the head of a Rico-sized prostitution empire run by Sandra McCarthy.


They say don't do the crime if you can't do the time. It's also said crime pays, but if you are not receiving any of that delicious tax-free human trafficking money, this slogan isn't true either.

When I write, people pay attention. I don't need to spam GFY with links to set traps for the trolls. That's all I was using GFY for anyways, until they banned me. That is going to hurt thier Alexa rank for sure, which is already pretty bad. Unlike, Mike South, I don't put a robots.TXT file to block my posts from being indexed in archive.org to deny I posted something.

I speak my mind and I own what I say. I don't take posts down.

A picture of xxxjay and lemmy from GFY
Mike South has the unmitigated audacity to call himself a “blogger,” plagiarize my posts and then go on to criticize me public forums as he did with Lemmy post. I never said Lemmy was my best friend. I merely shared stories from the last two decades I've known Lem.

Here is a screenshot of Mike's post, do you notice any similarities to mine:

Screen Shot 2016-07-15 at 3.35.31 PM
In my 2-hour conversation with Dave was rather entertaining. Apparently, Sandra McCarthy was supposedly trying to make use of Dave's “political connections” with judges to obtain a search warrent for the police to raid my house because I was “dealing cocaine”. With certainty, if she had been telling Dave to drop dime on me, there is no doubt in my mind she was doing it herself and/or having others do it.

That is how much of a CUNT Sandra McCarthy is. Since we are on the topic, let's get a few facts straight.

1. The mass exodus of porn girls from 101 talent was main reason Sandra wanted to squeeze me out.  She saw the opportunity to double roster. Why split twice the money 3 people instead of 2?

2. Sandra falsely alleged that I was a Coke dealer. Was I a big cocaine dealer? No. Would the cops have found cocaine at my house, had they decided to raid it? Maybe. There might have been some baggies in the “drug pockets” of jeans I washed or half empty bag sitting in a drawer somewhere I'd forgotten about. That was three years ago. In a community with a median age of 60 and a very active neighborhood watch, they would have definitely nailed me by now. The cops never came to call. Do you know why? Simple, because I wasn't selling cocaine. But here's the caper, let's say the police had found a minuscule amount of devils dandruff I'd forgotten about? That would be enough to force me out of the partnership, rather than buy me out. If I was the big cocaine dealer that she claimed, wouldn't I still be living up in that beautiful house in the Hollywood hills, instead of homeless in Atlanta? Which brings me to my next Point of contention.

3. Sandra McCarthy told everyone in the porn business I was bought out for $250,000. That is an out-and-out lie. I will swallow my pride and tell you the exact amount I was “bought out” of OC Modeling for $32,000. Yes, you read that right, that wasn't a typo: $32,000. You can get on food stamps and make more. Let's remember, the agency didn't earn money for the first three years. While Sandra bungled her way through the first original partnerships and just clung on like a dingleberry in the part of your asshole that you can't wipe, and trashed talked people out of their jobs who actually grew the business like Phil Mac; Sanda usurped the throne by attrition. If you did the math, technically I lost money. And that doesn't include checks that were never mailed to me for falsely endorsed and deposited in other bank accounts via Katie's creative accounting process.

4. Sandra McCarthy claims to have come into the porn business through her experience as a “mainstream talent agent.” That is another lie. When she left her job working in a custom closet company and continued to fail miserably at running a porn agency until Phil Mack got things into full swing, I covered her rent, expenses and supported her family while patiently waiting for the business to turn a profit. Her name was not on the bond, nor was John Baumgardner. That was me.

5. Anything you email to Sandra@OCmodeling.com or is sent from that email address is BCC'ed to John Baumgartner. Yes, that's right. Sandra McCarthy isn't even the real owner of OC Modeling. She is nothing more than a patsy for JC, who is the real president.

Okay Sandra, since you like to have fun getting the attention of the police: Two can play that game. This blog has a lot of loyal readers, and they are growing every day.

Let's have a little bit of fun.

If anyone would like to report an illegal prostitution ring run in Chatsworth California this is the address of the offices:

OC Modeling Los Angeles Main Office:
22024 Lassen Street
Suite 114
Chatsworth, Ca. 91311
(818) 626-9550

Here are some links to law enforcement would take interest in Sandra McCarthy's prostitution empire:

Chatsworth Police Department
810 G I Maddox Pkwy,
Chatsworth, GA 30705
Phone:(706) 695-9667

Los Angeles County resources:

Human Trafficking Section
http://www.lapdonline.org/detective_bureau/content_basic_view/51926

Gaming, Bookmaking, Pornography, Prostitution
251 E. 6th St, Rm 332
Los Angeles, CA. 90014
213-972-2500

Officer-in-Charge

Kelly Mulldorfer
Detective Support and Vice Division
213-972-2500
Email: kelly.mulldorfer@lapd.lacity.org

Vice Division (VD) is responsible for collecting, recording, maintaining, and disseminating intelligence data a major organized criminal enterprise within and affecting the City of Los Angeles. The Vice section concentrates on the enforcement of vice activities such as gaming, bookmaking, pornography, and prostitution. – http://www.lapdonline.org/detective_bureau/content_basic_view/1987

I've thought about it, but I have never reported any of Sandra McCarthy's illegal activities to the police. I don't believe in getting law-enforcement involved with anything. My new daily goal is to make her spend her life inside the confines of a State penitentiary.

In the event, the police are paid off, which I have often believed that they are. With companies like LADirect and Oc Modeling flagrantly operating out in the open for so many years you'd think they would've eventually gotten the attention of law enforcement? You never know, we might get lucky, this is an election year. The office is located within close proximity to public schools and other areas that wouldn't want this kind of activity.

If the are police paid off, I would happily pass the baton over to the criminals.

Prostitution is a cash money business. Though it has been some years since I was in that office, Sandra would always stash the cash in the file cabinets on the left side of the main room. Of course, that was three years ago. Surely, she can't be stupid enough to still be stashing the cash in a rental office with minimal or no security, but this is Sandra McCarthy we are talking about. If no money can be found there, Your next best bet would be to jack one of the model houses or catch one of their employees in the parking lot when they usually leave the office between 8PM and 11PM. She perjured herself in court, saying, “Jason Quinlan has a gun and is dangerous.” Which couldn't be further from the truth, as I've stated in previous blogs I am an advocate of gun control. So I'm assuming she isn't packing, but I can't confirm that.

I am not going to cross the line and post personal information, but if the police don't want to handle it anyone's can personal information including the addresses of the model houses by using Spokeo.com: Search anybody by name, e-mail address, phone number, online username or even friends in your address book and instantly return lots of info.

In case you haven't noticed, this blog was originally supposed to be a re-accounting of my glory days. I haven't even gotten to the good stuff like why I have Jeff Hanneman's guitar, the incident with Oliver Stone, and how I tried to shut the ocean off.

I have only been able to post a few of those stories from the 200-page manuscript I already have written, and have opted to use this blog as a platform to dish out massive bowls of truth-soup against my enemies.

I am homeless, have a pinched nerve which makes it likely I can't play guitar ever again without surgery I cannot afford.

I have chosen to go out with guns blazing. No justice, no peace, no quarter from my enemies.

In case you haven't noticed: I don't give a fuck about anything.

I'm not drinking to excess or on drugs.

That makes me more of a threat and hopefully a better writer.

Thank you for your time.

If you would like to help me keep writing so I don't have to keep sneaking into Starbucks for WIFI and can actually order of mocha Frapuccino, donations are always appreciated!

jason quinlan paypal

JQ